Warhammer 40k battle report stories
by Doctor Holo
Summary: This is a collection of battles I have participated in either in person or online in story form. If you wish to be part of a battle or a patreon supporter, DM me
1. Chapter 1

Deep in an uncharted part of space, a white orb floating through space, dark and cold. If there was any vegetation in the past, it had long since been scoured away. The planet appeared as a ball of crystal in the black of space. Unassuming, quiet, the chaos barge _Blood Drinker_ did not expect the sudden burst of gauss fire from the surface. It rocketed through space faster than the pilots could react and slammed into the side like a berserker's fist into a hapless guardsman. liAlarm horns blared and the ship's engines succumbed to the gravitational pull of the planet, screaming down to the surface.

Khamakhet watched the flaring ship with impassive, metallic disgust. His necrodermis was as white and shining as the planet beneath, and it pained his soulless heart to allow a filthy chaos ship to mar his dynasty's planet. The Iakhor hated chaos above all, their imperfection, lawlessness, and filth. It was for this reason that he decided to allow this ship to crash instead of allowing the planetary defenses to annihilate it. Iakhor had just begun to awake. And soulless as they were, his men still had fragments left in them of a soul; it would do them good to score a victory against their most hated foe. And after all, a good tactician never passed up the opportunity to test his skills. Khamakhet turned to his recently woken Immortals, metal-scaled cloak clinking like crystal in the thin atmosphere, "Tell Sahut to prepare the stalker, and waken the destroyers."

Their bronze skin shone in the dull light as though freshly oiled; some rust yet clung to their ribs and the white of their shoulders. The most pristine, and prized aspect of the immortals were their tesla guns. The latent energies had purged the weapon of all imperfections, leaving behind the sleek coppery sheen like the day it was forged. They trudged off to the tomb to muster their forces, footsteps cracking the brittle stone below.

From the burning wreckage of the ship, the sorcerer duo appraised the situation, amidst the screaming. The khornate berzerkers that survived the crash were frothing at the mouth and demanding that they leave immediately to hunt for the enemy that struck them down. The cultists knelt in prayer to the chaos gods for delivering them. The noise marines' armor throbbed with the pulse of integrated sound systems within their suits of armor. What unholy noises they heard to fuel their sin, even the sorcerers did not want to know. The terminator marines seethed in their hatred and walked off to an outcropping of crystal to put their astartic minds into creating a communication array. Somehow, over the quiet thunder of the noise marines' armor, the sorcerer duo heard the crunch of crystal over the ridge as a force approached. A tall Necron Overlord, flanked by two score warriors, and ten immortals. Dravhek, the senior sorcerer scanned the ridge, "Eyes Oblek, they do not show all their forces," he whispered. The arrival of the force paused even the berserkers long enough for Khamakhet to deliver his speech.

"You trespass on holy ground of the Iakhor Dynasty. Surrender now, and we won't strip down your filthy bodies to molecules; so fine that even your gods will not be able to find you!" A triarch stalker pulled itself up on the ridge and aimed its twin heavy gauss cannon to emphasize the "offer".

"AAHHHGG" The berserkers smashed their axes into the splintered ground, "Feel the might of Khorne, frail metal men. Your tin skulls will serve the skull throne as well as any other!" They charged across the open field in a frenzy, being the farthest force from the attackers much to their annoyance. Dravhek snapped his fingers and sent Oblek to the cultists where they would make preparations to summon Dravhek's favorite allies, daemonettes. The noise marines reacted the quickest. They warped across the battlefield in a mind defying feat and landed before the stalker. They were armed with melta guns and intended to make short work of the construct. The music grew louder and they unleashed a barrage of meltafire in guttural screams and glory. The blasts sailed through the air, and were promptly evaporated as the stalker's void shields sprung to life in silent mockery of their attempts. Only one melta shot went through, that managed to sizzle down the chassis of the stalker.

For a moment the noise marines were silent in the face of this alien technology. The stalker's targeting reticule clicked and whirred, and a blast of heat enveloped with squad of noise marines. Their shrieks of pleasure and pain echoed across the battlefield as they melted within their suits of armor, all but three.

Khamakhet raise his staff in silent signal. Three tomb blades screamed over the ridge followed by the silent pall of death that were the three destroyers. Dravhek cursed his noise marine's foolishness and clenched his fist in the air like he was strangling a baby. One of the tomb blades was crushed midair and tumbled uselessly across the ground. With the other hand he warped space time around the berserkers. Where they were once hundreds of yards away, now they were early upon the force at the ridge. But Dravhek felt his prioritization was lacking when the three destroyers sailed across the battlefield, white armor illuminated as though made of light, and unleashed a fuselage of gauss fire at the terminators. Every single one of the nine shotshit, and vaporized their targets before they could even react. The sole terminator left fell to his knees as his brothers dusted around him and proclaimed, "I will not suffer the shame of defeat!" Dravhek winced when he saw the last terminator bounce out from the outcropping after being blown apart by a krak grenade. His black heart grew cold when the pitiless gaze of the destroyers fell upon him next.

The immortals reared their guns as the berserkers warped to them and let off a barrage of arcing energy, felling three of the ten. But the berserkers would not be stopped. They tore into the frail bodies of the warriors like they were matchsticks. The hellish muscles and the screaming axes rent metal just as easily as flesh, and they carved a hole into the front line. Khamakhet roared with his new metal body for the first time in millions of years, and speared a berserker at the end of his warscythe. He bodily threw the corpse at the rest and swung his scythe in a humming melody of death. As though in response, the broken warriors at the feet of the berserkers stirred to life again and clun to them. They stabbed metal limbs, jumped and pulled of helmets to choke them to death, and drag them down to the ground. Of the slain twelve in the first volley of axe swings, ten came back and surrounded the berserkers where they were beat into a bloody pulp by soulless hands.

At the other end of the battlefield, the remaining three noise marines charged the stalker without any clear regard for their lives. The construct's supercomputer fired off another wave before they reached it and left two more smoldering on the ground. The last noise marine was only able to dent its leg before the tip of said leg was ripped through his torso like a spear.

Davhrek had no time to react, his body was destroyed in a whirl of blue gauss fire. One of the destroyers crumbled to the ground like a hand had just smashed it. But the body twitched and reknit itself as the destroyers turned to the new threat. Obrek and the cultists were ready for the final stand, for the glory of the Chaos Gods! And for the glory of the chaos gods, they vanished in flashes of blue and traces of dust.

Khamakhet looked onto his victory, only two warriors and a tomb blade were truly lost. But they could be repaired. On this day, the Iakhor Dynasty had reclaimed its place in the galaxy under the barrage of gauss fire and the death of their hated enemy.

(this was based on my first battle with my necrons. This fanfic will detail any and all battles as stories with whatever army I play in real life. I may do story-chapters in between the battles. If you wish to include your army, we are going to have to set something up where our armies battle it out over the internet somehow. I will not have it any other way. I do have a and support is ofcourse appreciated but not necessary. DM me for details. )


	2. Chapter 2 Necron vs Deathguard 2000 pt

(this is based on a battle I had with my necrons with as much accuracy and attention to true battle detail as I could manage.)

Khamakhet communed with the newly awakened Iou'Mon the cryptek and the eccentric Illuminator Szeras. The room was large and spherical, at the heart of the tomb. A central dias rose like an upside down pyramid and hololithic image of the planet Iakhor, sharing the name of the dynasty that made it their home. The image showed a large warp disturbance outside of the planet, and the rough outline of a battleship as the Necron's advanced scanning systems marked the turbulence of the warp eddies. "Eliminate them with planetary fire " Khamakhet ordered.

Szeras immediately sneered at Khamaket , "You best rethink you're position Overlord, I did not come here to be your lackey!" The irate cryptek scuttled up to him on arachnoid legs, "I require _subjects_ and to acquire _subjects_ I need BODIES!"

"What the Illuminator is also not mentioning," Iou'Mon finally peered up from the planetary graphic with his single cyclopian eye, "Is that our tomb world is heavily damaged from the onset of countless millenia. You can tell me to repair everything but i cannot be done without sufficient materials. But this," He jabbed a finger at the image of a battleship entering orbit, "Will provide both bodies and material."

Overlord Khamakhet stood stock still during the Illuminator's rant. He could ill afford to turn away his help. Szeras could name any price to any dynasty and they would be a fool not to take it. He looked again as the dropships were firing off to the planet surface, "Very well. Raise the Seraptek," Iou'Mon paused for a fraction of a second,"I will not suffer these demons a long life. We go to war for your bodies and your materials, but I am the warmaster. And we will fight this war on my terms," he turned away with a flourish and looked back as the metallic cape clinked against his backside, "I trust you will be joining us, Iluminator Szeras,"

"I will be joining in the area I know to be most crucial," he said impassively under no uncertain terms, that he would not be ordered by Khamakhet during the battle.

The Deathguard were upon their territory, they were led by the twin sorcerers Ooblik and Prus. The chaotic visions of the sorcerers told them both the defeat of their brothers upon this planet, and the incoming Necron force. One brother, Ooblik, took refuge in an abandoned tower, what race built it how long ago? He didn't care. Neither did the squad of five plague marines that followed him to provide cover fire, their sloppy entrails and leaking blood staining the crystal below them. The other brother was to be on the front lines. To his left were fifteen more plague marines. Their fetid and eggshell cracked power armor surrounded a blight hauler that invariably disgorged dozens of bloated flies around its carcass. Before Prus was twenty pox walkers, somehow even more foul smelling than the marines. They limped and shuffled awkwardly into position. Behind the pox walkers and to the right of Prus was an engine of glory and terror. A hellforged Leviathan Dreadnought. So twisted was the former warrior of the Imperium into Father Nurgle's glory. A thick and bony spine erupted along the back where 'flesh' was peeled away. It's arm guns grew long claws dripping with infected pus, and it's face and torso was lost beneath a mass of cancerous and weeping growths. The beast let out a painful howl before Prus could calm it, whispering the sweet promise of coming battle. Two plagueburst crawlers stood in the rear, one to the right of Ooblik's tower and one directly behind. The final prize of the deathguard was a rusted and twisted Deredeo dreadnought to the left of the tower. If you were to ask the deathguard if it was the metal or the soul of the dreadnought screeching so everytime it moved, they would probably say both. Prus and Ooblik calmed their forces, and together they called upon Father Nurgle to shroud them in a cloud of poisonous and thick gas.

The crest on the far hill and the air all around buckled and cracked as the great Necron force teleported as streams of light. At the forefront of the battle company was the mighty necron Seraptek. Truly this was a terror on the battlefield to behold. It strode forward on four smaller impaling legs and two massive forelimbs that dwarfed even its own body, which hummed with powerful generators. It's necrodermis was spotless after all the millenia, one could still see a latent scarab swarm scuttling around it's underside. The warmachine contained a fell intelligence of its own, and it surveyed the landscape with it's cold and calculating eye. Just to the side was a Tesseract Ark, straight out of the old legends of mortals. The air around the Tesseract Ark wavered and buckled at the influence of the black hole that powered its engine. Ten necron warriors plodded forth, some jerking through rusted joints, but unwilling and unable to decline the call to war. Ten tesla-weilding immortals followed behind them, their bronze skin still shining bright, even if the white of their necrodermis was beginning to rust. Three tomb blades screeched over their heads and the incorporeal forms of their three wraiths would have sent a shiver through their souls, if they had one. The final retinue had Overlord Khamakhet, and Illuminator Szeras flanked by three, disturbingly quiet destroyers, a triarch stalker to the left and five lychguard armed with shields and blades. Their regality was unaffected by the rust and wear. The Seraptek lead the way with the tomb blades and the Ark flanking it. The warriors bodies dissolved into light and they teleported on top of a tower overlooking the cloud of miasma in the distance. The immortals took shelter on the ground floor, ready to jump out to the fray, with Szeras hiding on the second floor. Khamakhet stood with the Immortals and ordered the stalker to the right of the tower in the open where it could draw fire as bait.

Prus and Ooblik would not wait longer to let them get into position. Prus slammed his staff and shook maggots from the folds of his arm, "FIRE,"

The necrons turned their weapons up to the cloud, but too late. The mutable blob of horror that was the leviathan dreadnought screamed in agony as the claws in its arms parted away and vile mouth screamed a wave of torsion-gravity force at the Seraptek. The weaponized gravity tore at its legs and twisted them like a giant would twist the legs of an insect. The second torsion wave ripped across its carapace and exposed the delicate and volatile inner workings of its generator-heart. Plague burst mortars hurled from behind the tower and exploded into the faces of the warriors and the immortals. Combined with the swarming shots of the plague marines, half their numbers fell in the initial onslaught. Prus sent the flies around the blight hauler in a frenzy, obscuring its form as it spat ineffective volleys at the staggered necrons. The deredeo launched swarms of missiles, only several hitting the tower and rattling its occupants.

The Seraptek's eye flashed bright blue and the scarab swarms worked in a frenzy on its body, they managed to repair it to full fighting order, but its vital components were still vulnerable. The Seraptek turned its synaptik obliterators upon the Leviathan Dreadnought, spurned on by an unnatural and unliving hatred. The guns burned bright blue like static lightning and began to disassemble the leviathan in a violent and explosive fashion. Its screams were drowned by the singularities that began to grow around its body like miniature explosions, until even the light from it's forge coils were stolen by the gravitational pull. The leviathan dreadnought flared like a burnt out light and the black holes with it, leaving nothing behing. The Seraptek lowered the guns and stumbled, smoking from the intense energy output.

The Tesseract Ark swerved through the air and in front of the Seraptek, blocking any would be charges with its anti-gravity field and lashing at the blight hauler with a cosmic wave, shearing off part of its armor. Then the air around it swirled like a spun gold tornado, and annihilated 7 pox walkers in graceful the chaos, Illuminator Szeras ran up and down the tower, all of the fallen soldiers had already reanimated and he was busy augmenting them with upgrades. The warriors and immortals shot into the group of fifteen marines, taking down three with a combination of gauss and electric fire. The triarch stalker joined the fray and melted two of the marines into puddles of cooked puss.

The tomb blades swung around the back and harassed the pox walkers from all sides, giving ample distractional comfort for the destroyers to unleash their hatred and claim the blight hauler as a kill. The wraiths swam through the air and through the back of the line. Two opened their claws into the bodies of the plague marines, eviscerating enough organs to fell ten mortal men, but it didnt faze the blessing of nurgle. Behind them in the tower, the third wraith shrieked up the floor like a phantom and locked its metallic claws in a death struggle with the five bodyguards.

Khamakhet watched these events before he walked back to his retinue of Lychgaurd, spread his cloak, and vanished like a heatwave. They reappeared behind the tower of the Sorcerer Ooblik, loyal lychguard arrayed with their shields before their overlord.

The deathguard plagueburst crawlers unleased a deadly salvo of mortar on the tesseract ark, buckling its shields as it stood to defend the Seraptek, the last shot hit the pilot directly and sent the ark flying backwards where it smashed into a wall. The plague marines wasted no time in dispatching all three wraiths with axes and fist, giving them room to fire their bolters to dismantle a destroyer. The Deredeo dreadnought swiveled with a shriek and unleashed a truly deadly salvo against the Triarch Stalker, whose void shields absorbed the superior firepower in condescending mockery. Ooblik pulled a pistol on the rear lychguard and fired in a frenzy. The lychguard closed ranks and a forcefield flew up at the last second, striking ooblek three times in the stomach. The rest of the plague marines followed suit and blasted the guards, felling one. Though his corpse was already stirring as soon as it hit the ground.

The guard came back up as soon as it had fallen, and they ignored the sorcerer and his retinue utterly. Their target was the plague burst crawler hiding behind the tower. Khamakhet roared a metallic battlecry and together he and his men charged the monstrosity of a machine. The blue warplades cut apart the disgustingly resilient metal and butchered the tank until it's demonic engines barely registered the chassis.

The Seraptek took note of the battlefield, it was more than aware of its own impending doom. Its protocols, its built in desire, was to cause as much damage to the enemy as possible. First it swiveled its guns and fired on the plagueburst crawler in front of the tank that the lychguard were mincing apart. The energy of the guns ripped the hull apart like paper and breached the fuel tank, setting off an explosion before the singularities consumed it. The crawler imploded in a green explosion of fire and rancid meat, the flames consumed what was left of the other crawler and set off its explosion as well, consuming two lychguard in the process and coating Khamakhet in a vat of acid that ate at his necrodermis. Collateral damage acceptable. The Seraptek now turned its singular eye to the tower and the ant-like retinue before it. The warmachine loped forward on its legs and swiped it's mandible across the battlefield, severing each and every one of the twelve poxwalkers and three space marines, driving them into the crystalline dust of the planet, so complete was their destruction. The immortals and the warriors provided fire, but it was almost negligible compared to what was wrought by their machine.

The destroyers released a salvo at the deredeo dreadnought, buckling a leg below the walking weapons platform, and giving the triarch stalker time to close the distance and impale one of the forelimbs into its shoulder.

Ooblik smiled in triumph and threw his staff at the Seraptek, it formed into a length of plasmatic lightning and smote the machine at the center of its chassis, effectively a killing blow. But his triumph soon turned to terror as the Seraptek, whose core was glowing bright white now, stumbled to the tower so that it could stare at Ooblik with its one eye. And then everything was gone. The tower and its inhabitants were instantly disintegrated in an explosion so bright that it even disrupted the ocular sensors of the necrons. The rest of the plague marines below the Seraptek would not have felt their fate even if they were flesh and bone, nothing was left here the Seraptek was standing, even the tomb blades were consumed in the edges of the blast. Khamakhet stood in shock, something he had not felt in millions of years. But it only lasted for the fraction of a second, before he rallied his lychguard to cut down the deredeo still clasped in the death embrace of the triarch stalker. Despite the all-annihilating force of the Serapteks death blow, there was still enough bodies left to fascinate Szeras and enough material to satisfy the tomb worlds cryptek. Khamakhet was not pleased at losing his Seraptek, but he also knew that he had made a tactically wise decision to summon it. A leviathan dreadnought could wipe out an army by itself. His dead soul was comforted in that the Seraptek took down more with it than anyone thought possible, and ended the battle with finality.


End file.
